


The Barter Economy

by bobthemole



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-28
Updated: 2010-01-28
Packaged: 2018-04-18 01:53:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4687982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bobthemole/pseuds/bobthemole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Prompted by LJ Community <b>still_grrr</b>  #154: Classic Literature (1900-1960 Edwardian to Modern Classics)</p>
<p>Inspired by Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad. </p>
<p>Thanks to snickfic for help with the Spanish language and angearia for the rapid-fire beta.</p>
<p>Disclaimers: Named characters (except Faramundo) are property of FOX and Mutant Enemy. The mythology of the Lanai'ur tribe is loosely based on that of the Urarina of Peru.</p>
<p>Originally posted to <a href="http://bob-tales.livejournal.com/3254.html">http://bob-tales.livejournal.com/3254.html</a></p>
    </blockquote>





	The Barter Economy

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by LJ Community **still_grrr** #154: Classic Literature (1900-1960 Edwardian to Modern Classics)
> 
> Inspired by Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad. 
> 
> Thanks to snickfic for help with the Spanish language and angearia for the rapid-fire beta.
> 
> Disclaimers: Named characters (except Faramundo) are property of FOX and Mutant Enemy. The mythology of the Lanai'ur tribe is loosely based on that of the Urarina of Peru.
> 
> Originally posted to <http://bob-tales.livejournal.com/3254.html>

Faramundo ran a river taxi out of Iquitos in the Peruvian Amazon. Although his boat was serviceable, it was very obviously an old fishing boat outfitted to carry passengers. The cabin was a closed one by necessity, because Faramundo (part-Kuxtli on his father's side) had made a niche for himself ferrying local and visiting demons around the upper Amazon basin, and many of them avoided the sunlight. However, many demon-folk were unpleasant customers. He dreamed of an easier job taking rich foreign tourists about on day trips - they were less likely to haggle or drip mucus on the decks - but there was plenty of competition from tour operators with slick new vessels that had full galleys and flush toilets. Faramundo didn't have the money to buy the cabin cruiser he'd need to attract the right sort of clientele, so he tried to count his blessings and not grouse too loudly.

It was the heart of the flood season when the local Kuxtli chief's adjunct came to him with an offer from a visiting demoness, a vampire from a noble clan who wished to be ferried up the Oscuro tributary and then guided through the rain forest into Lanai'ur territory. Faramundo was apprehensive; he did not think his part-demon ancestry would preserve him from a vampiress in the grip of hunger. But Doña Drusilla Aurelia swore on her sire's name that she would not bite him nor allow him to be bitten while under her protection. And for his troubles she was prepared to pay the sum of eighty-thousand Nuevo Sol.

Eighty-thousand, he realized, was enough for a down payment on a second-hand cabin cruiser. It was also a generous remittance, even taking the dangerous journey into account. Nor was it wise to turn down an Aurelian, especially a guest of the chief. He replied that he would be pleased to assist the lady on her travels, provided she paid in advance. To his surprise she readily agreed, and Faramundo prepared his boat for what he hoped would be its last voyage.

On the appointed day shortly before dawn the lady arrived at the marina in the chief's car. She brought with her a small valise and an insulated box containing blood for her meals. The driver stowed her luggage in the cabin, and then escorted her onto the boat. She looked around curiously.

"Are you to be my cavalier on this journey?" she asked. Her Spanish was fluent but with a sing-song accent he couldn't quite place.

"At you service, Doña," he replied.

Faramundo felt abashed at the shabby condition of his boat in her presence but the lady gave no indication that she was put out, and hummed softly to herself as she made herself at home in the cabin. While he prepared the boat for launch, she came out and watched him intently.

"The song that the river sings is familiar to you," she said.

"Yes, Doña. I've been handling boats since I was a boy. My family are all guides and navigators"

"It's in your blood then."

"Yes-" he began before wondering if any mention of blood before a vampire was wise. She seemed to understand his hesitation and gave a bright, tinkling laugh.

"My gallant frets needlessly." Her eyes twinkled merrily. "I have offered him protection from the dark kiss, and a Lady keeps her word."

"I am grateful, Doña," he replied. "I'll launch as soon as dawn breaks."

"And I shall retire from the cruel sun. The piskies are grieving, and I must console them." She slipped into the cabin and closed the door after her.

Faramundo was confused by the lady's parting words, but decided she was entitled to her eccentricities.

It was a fine day for travel, with warm sun and cool breeze and the roar of the motor filling his ears. The jungle allowed no major roads so the river was the major route in and out of Iquitos. He pointed his vessel up the Marañón river, deeper into the heart of the rain forest. Traffic grew thinner as the villages dotting the river banks grew smaller.

In the evening, the cabin door opened and his passenger stood just out of reach of the sunlight.

"Did you rest well?" he called to her over the noise. She smiled at him from the shadows.

They reached the mouth of the Oscuro shortly thereafter, and he dropped anchor. In the sudden silence after the motor was switched off, he realized the lady was still singing the song he'd heard the night before. The words sounded like English, and her hands made sweeping motions in the air. She seemed like a playful child and Faramundo thought he could easily forget her true nature.

"So much life in the jungle!" she exclaimed, "I can smell it in my fingers. It tingles my feet."

"Forgive my boat, it offers little room to dance."

"Oh, there will be time enough for dancing. Plenty of room, and time will keep its own measure. Do you not agree?"

He smiled at her patter, "If that is what you wish, Doña."

"Oh, I do indeed wish. 'Though it frightens the piskies so. Do you see piskies?"

"I don't know the word."

"Fairies, then? Little imps with wings that flutter about and gossip about what you aren't supposed to know."

"Then I haven't seen them. I wish I could."

"Oh good. I shall point them out to you if I can."

With that, she closed her eyes and tossed her head to and fro in a strange dignified frenzy. Doña Drusilla was certainly the strangest passenger Faramundo had ferried, but he couldn't help liking her. She had charm and called him - what was it? - her cavalier. He never could have expected such familiarity from what was essentially royalty.

After his dinner he took Drusilla's leave and made his bed on the edge of the deck. The noise of the water quickly led him to sleep, but all night he heard humming and soft murmurs in his sleep. Good bye! he dreamt someone cry, Good bye, stars! Good bye, pretty musics. 'Tis rude but I shall forget you all. A moth fluttered by his ear and in his dream he saw the piskies dancing under a gibbous moon.

When he woke at dawn his passenger had returned to her cabin. He led the boat into the Oscuro river. The tributary was different in character from the previous river, much narrower so the forest canopy almost met overhead in places. This river meandered and the current was swifter, so it took a steady hand to guide the boat upstream.

They reached the end of their river journey by mid-afternoon, but of course Drusilla couldn't leave the boat until sundown. Faramundo secured the anchor and settled down to wait out the day.

"You are certain you know the way to the Lanai'ur in the dark?" a plaintive voice came from within.

"The Kuxtli have a gift for finding their way in the jungle," he replied. "You need not worry."

"I shan't, then. I shall avail of your gifts, my pretty knave of spades."

He didn't know what to say, so he remained quiet and listened to the strange songs coming from the doorway.

At nightfall, he lifted the lady's luggage on his back and helped her ashore. Between his tracking abilities and the vampire's vision, they had no need to light their path through the jungle. The chittering of night creatures seemed as loud as his boat's motor. Rich verdant forest smells filled his nose, thick enough to eat. And through the assault on his senses, his intended path shone in front of him like a golden thread unraveling. Predators and warm-blooded things kept well away from them, so Faramundo's greatest concern was not to stumble in the mud or trip over an exposed root.

Drusilla seemed to be in merry spirits. Every so often she'd let out a peal of laughter, or pause to spy a drowsing insect, or crane her neck to peer at the canopy. Once she tried to climb a vine, and then hissed and fell with a splinter in her palm. She refused his offer of a rinse and bandage, but put her hand to her mouth. Then she was silent for several minutes.

After two hours' journey he felt the path ahead grow brighter.

"We are nearing a Lanai'ur village, Doña."

Drusilla clapped excitedly. "Splendid, my stalwart knight. You are most clever."

Before he could bask under her praise, they were stopped by a small group of men carrying long rods with sharpened tips. The tallest of them appeared to be their leader.

"Your kind are unwelcome here," he said to Drusilla, "and your bloodhound is no friend of ours either."

Faramundo bristled at the insult, but an imperious gesture from Drusilla silenced him.

"You would be wise to speak with more civility," she answered with a hardness beneath her voice. "We come here under the invitation of your Divine Father, Lanai himself, and we will meet with your Headman. Tell him we bring a message on his behalf."

The tall man spoke to one of the guards, who ran back toward the village. He turned back to Drusilla and Faramundo cautiously.

"If we invite you into our village, what guarantee do we have that you will not harm us?"

Drusilla replied, "We give you our pledge in the name of our sire Angelus, his sire Darla, her sire Nestus, and his sire Aurelius. No member of your village will be harmed by us or our companion."

The messenger ran back and whispered in the tall man's ear. The man nodded.

"We extend an invitation to you, Vampire Drusilla, and to the demon that follows you."

"Tut-tut, you must be more polite to our faithful knave. He is not so different from you."

The man looked like he disagreed, but turned and led them to the village.

In the center of the villages, between the rows of longhouses, stood a man who looked like he'd hurriedly slipped into ceremonial garb. He held out his arms and spoke while the tall man translated his words into Spanish.

"Welcome, lady of dark and bright who was invited by the Divine Father. This village offers you its hospitality. How may we be of service?"

"Your Divine Father came to us in our vision and lamented the decay of true sight among your people. He bade us come to you and offer the bounties of our own sight, so that you may again see your past and your future."

"You are a seeress, my lady?"

"We are."

"What help could you offer us? You are a lady of the outer world, and no doubt have greater tasks than to idle in a tiny village and offer us hints of the truth. We need a seer, yes, but we need one who will live with us through many floods."

"You mistake us, sir. When we offer you our sight, we mean it as a bounty. You may relieve us of it and keep it with you."

The headman look startled and, after glancing at the tall man, invited Drusilla into a closed hut to talk further. One of the guards gestured to Faramundo to follow him, and led him to a longhouse to sleep.

The next day Drusilla, the tall man and the village head were still conferring in the cabin. The guard who showed him the bed the previous night offered him breakfast. It was starchy and bland, but he was hungry and wiped the bowl clean in no time. With nothing else to do, he wandered around trying to make unsuccessful small talk in Spanish and broken Quechua. He grew certain in his suspicion that the Lanai'ur detected his demon ancestry. It hadn't been a problem in Iquitos, where people were either oblivious to demon-kind or mingled freely with them. But people in these little villages clung to their fears and prejudices. The best he could do was act civil and bide his time until Doña Drusilla was ready to leave.

It was night before the hut door opened and the three people emerged. The head man made an announcement, and the villagers quickly cleaned up their evening meal and shooed their children to bed. Meanwhile, the tall man and some of the others built a small fire near the hut. Drusilla sought out Faramundo and beckoned him close.

"Do you see? They are throwing a little party in our honor!" She spun on her toes. "I wish my dolls were here to see. Come, my knave, sit near me for the ceremony."

Around the ceremonial fire gathered a handful of people: the headman, the tall man, one of the guards, two old women, Drusilla and himself. The headman took a deep breath and began to speak.

"Come listen, people, this tale must be told so we may remember our forefathers. We begin in the name of the Divine Father Lanai, who is god of the truths hidden in the past and future, who gave us spirit-leaf so we may know them."

The older woman tossed a bundle of leaves into the fire and took up the story. "He gave us spirit-leaf and he sent down his own son Lanai'ka to teach its virtues. But the bad people, who still exist, took him and buried him under the ground. They meant to roam unmolested by the truth."

The second woman tossed another bundle into the fire. A column of black greasy smoke began to rise. "But there are good people also, who dug him out of the ground. The woman Kavi cleared his eyes and nose and mouth and put breath in him."

The tall man added more leaves to the flames and continued. "Lanai was enraged and sent a flood thrice as high as any man. Lanai'ka and Kavi climbed a tree to escape the flood, where they stayed for three nights and three days. On the tree grew spirit-leaf which they ate in their hunger and they learned the waters would recede and they would mate and birth the chosen people, who are we, the Lanai'ur." At this point the air was thick with smoke from the fire and Faramundo's vision began to blur, as if the slowest things were moving too quickly - or hanging in the air a moment longer than they should.

The story-circle passed to the man from the guard. He added his bundle and spoke, "It happened thus, and after the waters receded Lanai'ka and Kavi climbed down the tree, bringing with them spirit-leaf. They mated and their children became the Lanai'ur. Lanai'ka showed them how to use the spirit-leaf."

On Faramundo's other side, the headman spoke again, "For eons the Lanai'ur spoke with Lanai through spirit-leaf. They were thrifty with grain, wise in affairs, and victorious in battle. But as the years passed, Lanai's blood grew thin in the people. The truth they saw in spirit-leaf grew broken and dream-like, and the few with vision were crippled with pain behind the eyes and died."

The older woman said, "The truth was lost to us and the story ended. But Lanai in his wisdom has sent us another gift. The ones who buried the truth now offer us a boon, and gift us with their own sight."

The other woman spoke, "And in her wisdom and generosity, knowing we lack a vessel to receive the gift, she brings one herself to aid us."

Faramundo suddenly found himself gripped by the arms. The guard and the tall man flanked him and pulled him to his feet. He looked to Drusilla for help, but she smiled as she had for the entire ceremony.The men dragged him closer to the fire and pushed his head into the smoke. His eyes stung and watered, he coughed so hard he thought he would lose a lung, but he couldn't pull away. Through the haze he saw the headman lift something glowing red from the fire and approach him. When he was three paces away, Faramundo passed out.

The fire was mere embers by the time he woke. The first thing he noticed was that his neck was tethered to a pole outside the headman's hut. The second thing he noticed were the voices. It was as if the wind and the forest and the river were all making conversation, their words at first too low to make out but steadily rising to fill his ears.

Drusilla stood nearby, talking to the tall man. Both were smiling brightly, and then Drusilla clasped the man's hand and bowed her head. That was when he knew. He knew the tall man would die of an infected spear wound within a year, and he knew why Drusilla stood straighter and spoke without music in her voice.

When she noticed him awake she walked toward him - carefully, like a child letting go of a parents' hand to make its own way in the world. She looked down at him from her full height, and he knew what she was now capable of. And he was afraid.

"Do you understand what has happened?" she asked him. He looked at her in despair but didn't answer. She continued, "Do you know how old I am, Faramundo? I have been a creature of the night for eons and in all this time I have been tormented by the sight. I've been taunted by visions of things that are to happen, and knew I was helpless to change them. Before I became who I am, I saw the slaughter of everything I held dear. Since then I have seen my sire become a dessicated husk, my grandsire torn from the inside by a parasite, my beloved walk away from me into the light. The God of my life forsook me, so I sought others to make my prayers to. And finally one answered."

Out the corner of his eye Faramundo saw the fluttering of wings, quick to melt away when he turned his attention to them. Drusilla seemed to understand, because she smiled.

"Do you see yet? Lanai wanted to speak to his people, but the demon had faded from their blood and they were blind deaf-mutes. I despaired of my "gift" and wanted it gone. Gifts cannot be given freely, they must be exchanged, and the Lanai'ur had nothing to offer. Fortunately, you did."

One of the winged things flitted across his vision and thus he saw his first piskie. It was blue, hairy and beady-eyed like a rodent, with gossamer wings that belied all its other ugliness. Do you see? it asked him. Do you see yet, do you see?

"The Lanai'ur have traded my gift for yours, and for this favor I have given them you. They need the vision, and a tame vessel to keep it in. It is a worthwhile transaction, and I feel none of us are the poorer for it. I am sure you agree." At this, she turned away and returned to the tall man.

The man asked her , "Will you be able to find your way back?"

"Certainly," Drusilla replied. "It's as if the path reveals itself." She hitched her pack onto her back and walked away into the darkness.

The guard who had offered him a bed now brought a bowl with the starchy food in it. He placed it on the ground in front of Faramundo and said, "Eat."

Do you see? said the piskie, He thinks you're a dog.

Another winged creature joined the first. You're a dog now, leashed to a pole, doing tricks for treats.

And finally Faramundo saw it all: the long years of his life as a tool of the Lanai'ur, treated like something more and yet less than human. He was lost in the faceless jungle, with no way in or out of the village unless his captors showed him the way. He saw the smoke he would choke on until his lungs gave way, and the seed stolen from him to create more seers in preparation of his death.

He thought of the eighty-thousand Nuevo Sol orphaned in his bank account, soon to be taken by the Kuxtli chief. And then he laughed.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in 2010 and held off on moving it to AO3 for a while. 
> 
> I have mixed feelings about this fic. It's one of my favorite things I've written because I enjoyed burying bits of foreshadowing that many people didn't catch until their second read-through.
> 
> On the downside, it relies on some annoyingly racist tropes about primitive tribes deep in the jungle practicing sinister magic. I was aware of this when writing it, and tried to give the Lanai'ur a bit of authenticity by basing their mythology on that of an indigenous group from the same general area. In retrospect I don't think that was the best decision - I was appropriating the culture of the Urarina people for entertainment and that's just...not above board.
> 
> One could say my gaffe ties into the overarching theme of subaltern groups throwing each other under the bus to curry favor with the hegemonic power structure, but that would be giving Bob of five years ago entirely too much credit.
> 
> I had notions of fixing what was broke in this fic, but after half a decade I've accept that's not going to happen. So I'm posting the fic as-is. I hope the flaws don't detract too much from the good bits.
> 
> ~Bob


End file.
